


You, me and the years in between

by LostinFic



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:45:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinFic/pseuds/LostinFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On New Year's Eve 2013, Billie thinks back on her first night with David on New Year's Eve 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You, me and the years in between

It’s their anniversary. The restaurant is romantic, the meal is delicious and her husband is dutifully attentive, complimenting her new halter dress. But her eyes keep drifting toward her beaded clutch, strategically left opened on the table so she can sneak glances at her phone. Just in case. In case the nanny calls. In case David remembers what happened on this very date eight years ago.

 

Why either of them thought it would be a good idea to get married around the same time they’d started their affair is still up for debate. An absurd attempt at defiance or at starting anew. They’d only discussed it once and it had led to their longest separation, so neither of them is really keen to tackle the subject again. Now they never mention it, not when drinks loosen their tongues, not when they call each other in the middle of the night. And especially not when December arrives.

She’d done good last year. She’d managed to push the thought away, the memory only catching her off guard between sleep and wakefulness. He hadn’t attempted to contact her and neither had she. She’d been proud of herself, if a little disappointed. And that’s the thing really, nothing feels as good as the thrill of seeing “Teninch” flash on the screen of her phone when she least expects it or the secret brush of his fingers along her spine when they meet in public. But this year, with the 50th anniversary and what they’d confessed to each other under the blankets, things they should’ve admitted a long time ago, he’s on her mind more than ever.

She changes position on her chair and loses track of the conversation, her attention now on the oil and vinegar separating in the glass bottle in front of her. She feels out of sorts, fragmented, scattered. When she can’t stand it anymore, she escapes to the washroom. She sits on the toilet, the sequins of her dress digging in her elbows, the mobile heavy between her hands. She hesitates until it occurs to her that David is the only person she can be completely honest with. And if she’s thinking about him, she’s got to let him know. Anyway, one of them has to take the inevitable first step.

“You me 2005” she types.

Her stomach drops when she hits send. She remains seated, legs bouncing impatiently, regretting her text more and more with every passing second that he doesn’t reply.

* * *

December 31st 2005

A few of her friends have gathered in her living room for a drink or two before heading out to celebrate the New Year in a bar. She’s just swallowed a shot of vodka, when there’s a knock on her door. She looks around the room with a frown, counting her friends. Curious, she stands up to walk to the door but the sudden movement makes her realize how affected she is by the alcohol. Nevertheless, she struts to the entryway with her head up high and her hand trailing along the wall for balance.

She sobers up a little when she opens the door and the cool night air hits her face.

“David!”

“Hey you.”

“Hi, that’s a nice surprise.”

She considers letting him in but joins him outside instead. She leans against the doorframe with a smile and he moves forward, well into her personal space, drawn to her warmth.

He smells like trains, rust and dust, and it makes her want to bury her nose under his layers of jacket and sweater to find his familiar scent.

“I thought you said you’d be back only on the 3rd.”

“Well, yeah but I, er, I decided to come back earlier,” he runs a hand through his hair, shaking off the snowflakes that have settled there, “I, I just couldn’t wait.”

“You love London that much?”

“Er, well, no, I meant… you. I couldn’t wait…” he shuffles on his feet.

“To see me?”

“Yeah.”

She can’t help but smile even wider. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, unconsciously angling her hips towards him.

“Really?”

“You do owe me 10 quid, remember?”

“Shut up.”

She pokes him in the stomach and he catches her hand. He holds it between his own, the tip of his fingers cold against her heated skin. The contact sends her heart racing like never before and she can’t seem to take her eyes off their joined hands, the way he holds hers, like he would a butterfly. It feels all very real suddenly, it’s not just teasing and innocent flirting on the set, he’s showed up at her place before but this is more significant somehow. Her smile fades away as her heart constricts in her chest.

“Billie?”

He says her name with a tightness in his voice. She doesn’t look up, afraid of what she might find in David’s eyes. She feels his lips, pressing against her temple, lingering there, his ragged breath in her hair and his thundering heart next to hers.

“Babe, you ready to go? Oh, hi David.”

Billie’s boyfriend has appeared at the other end of the hall. She startles and finally looks up just in time to see David’s will drain from his face as he turns his head away.

“Coming, just give us a minute, yeah?” Billie replies without sparing her boyfriend a glance.

“Sorry, didn’t know you were…” David trails off.

He takes in her clothing, the low cut red dress, vintage, from one of those posh thrift shops she likes and the gold glitter on her eyelids.

“You’re going out?”

“Yeah, come with us,” she tugs on his hand still holding hers.

He hesitates and she can see the disappointment, clear as day, in his big brown eyes.

“I don’t know, I’d have to drop by my flat first,” that’s when she notices his suitcase on the first step and realizes how eager he’d been to see her.

“I’ll go with you.”

She squeezes his hand and turns around to pick up her black wool coat and a long striped scarf hanging by the door. She’s still wrapping the scarf around her neck as they walk the few blocks to his flat, his suitcase leaving parallel lines in the fresh snow next to their increasingly close footprints.

She doesn’t ask about his holidays, she knows how it went, having talked and exchanged texts with him almost everyday. The thing is, with their crazy filming schedules, the definitions of morning and night become blurred and going back to a normal routine is practically impossible. So she’d find herself wide awake at 4 am with David on her mind.

By the time they reach his home, her arm is linked with his and both their cheeks and noses have gained a lovely red colour. While he fights with his key in the lock, she gets the strongest urge to rub her nose against his, an Eskimo kiss that would hopefully lead to a proper English snog. Just when she decides to lean in, his door opens and she almost falls flat on her face.

She steps into the familiar but impersonal living room. The apartment is cold and dark from having being uninhabited for a while.

“I’m just gonna change quickly,” David says.

She chucks her coat next to his on the leather couch and follows him to the bedroom. She leans against the door, her hands fiddling with the top lace layer of her dress, as he removes his t-shirt. Almost hypnotized by the dimples on his lower back, she gapes at him as he moves around the moonlit room.

“Hum, Bills, a little privacy,” he says with a laugh but her eyes remain intent on him.

“Were you planning on kissing me at midnight?” she asks, suddenly feeling bold, her tongue curling over her teeth with her smile.

David seems taken aback, stopping in front of his closet, an embarrassed smile spreading across his face and the red on his cheeks no longer a result of exposure to the cold.

“Well, no.”

“Oh,” she looks down at her hands, her shoulders slumping forward as her confidence fades away.

“I was planning to do it much sooner than that.”

She looks back up at him, shirtless and smirking, and she feels heat spreading from her core through all her limbs. It’s what all the flirting and touching and sharing has been leading up to since they’ve started working together. It’s out there now, floating in the silence between them, as they hold each other’s gaze. He takes a tentative step closer and her legs seem to turn to jelly. 

“Would you… would like me to…”

“Yeah,” the word slips from her mouth before he’s even finished asking.

And she knows why he’s asking. She’s the one in a relationship. But there’s a definite feeling of now or never in the air and David, he’s… well, he’s David.

“Yes,” she repeats and this time she’s moving towards him and he’s moving too, and they meet halfway, their lips colliding. Her arms wrap tightly around his neck, her nose smooshed against his scruffy cheek, as her lips move urgently, greedily. When his tongue darts out she starts laughing and she can’t stop, the happiness, effervescent in her throat, bubbles up uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry.”

He looks a bit hurt at first, but he soon follows, cackling up as well, peppering her neck and cheeks with kisses in between giggles. Their laughter melts into sighs as their lips meet again and she starts moving her hands over the soft skin of his stomach and the wiry hair of his chest.

The material of her dress slowly slides up her legs, a silky caress, as he bunches it in his hands. His slender fingers finally slip under the fabric, molding the shape of her thigh to travel up and over her hip bone. Her knees buck when his thumb strokes along the edge of her knickers and he chuckles in the crook of her neck. His hand drifts along the lacy underwear to cup her bum, giving it a little squeeze and then another, longer, one coinciding with a groan and she’s the one chuckling smugly now.

“I thought I saw you looking,” she teases.

“I did, you’re always bending in front of me, you are,” he punctuates his statement with a playful slap on her ass.

“Oh, kinky.”

Both of them freeze.

“Er, yeah, maybe, if that’s what you’re into,” he replies, pronouncing the words hesitantly.

“I don’t know, but if you like that, maybe, I could… try?”

Her eyes search his face for a hint.

“Oh no, no… well, not now, maybe, maybe another time, I mean, if there’s another time, that is if we’re actually going to do this,” David rambles on, gesturing nervously in the space there is now between them.

“We are doing this,” she confirms, “nothing kinky.”

“Just good ol’ fashion shagging.”

And his mouth is on hers again, their tongues reaching for each other in a messy kiss as his fingers roam her dress in search of a zipper or buttons, anything to get her naked as fast as possible. Impatient, she simply slips the dress over her head and discards it on the floor.

“So we’re really doing this?” he asks again, without taking his eyes off her chest.

“Yes!”

And next thing she knows he’s picking her up and carrying her on the bed, looking very pleased by his exhibition of manliness. 

Billie asks if he’s got any condoms and he ends up emptying the content of his bedside table on the floor.

"Bollocks!"

He skitters off to the bathroom, almost breaking a leg in his haste.

She folds over the blue duvet and takes off her underwear. When he comes back into the room, she’s stark naked, stretched on the bed sheets in what she hopes looks seductive rather than like a beached whale. Judging by David’s slack jaw and the way his eyes roam her body, she seems to have succeeded. She crooks her index finger, calling him over and he crawls above her. He trails his mouth along the soft skin of her inner thigh and onward, following the curve of her waist, until his lips can close around her pebbled nipple.

“I knew your mouth would be fabulous,” she whispers.

She feels him smile against her breast before giving it a light bite.

“Oh, you’ve thought about this, then?”

“I’ve lost count of how many times,” she admits, her voice breathy.

She squirms under him, seeking more contact, frustrated by the rough material of his jeans between them.

“What do you think about?” he asks, ignoring her demanding body.

His fingers are now where his mouth was, kneading her goosebumped flesh, his lips ghosting along her collarbone.

“I think about you naked.”

She pushes up, unexpectedly, rolling him over and sitting up in his lap. She trails her nails, nonchalantly, just above his waistband and then her tongue follows the same path and it takes all his strength to keep still. His jeans and underwear are tugged down his legs and she pauses to appreciate his lean body and the sight of his cock, proud and hard, just for her.

She hears the distinct sound of foil tearing and she stops him before he can unroll the latex over his erection. She wants to touch him, feel the weight of him in her hand. Her fingers close around his cock and it hardens even more as she strokes slowly up and down the velvety flesh. David moans, a throaty and oddly rewarding noise that echoes in the small bedroom. She unconsciously rocks back and forth, coating his thigh with her wetness. It seems to bring him out of his lust-clouded mind long enough for his thumb to glide between her nether lips, circling over the sensitive bundle of nerve and sending a delightful shock up her spine.

“Ok, now, put it on,” she says, her voice strangled.

As David unrolls the protection, her eyes move to his face, his glazed over and dilated pupils a strange contrast to his boyish, freckled features. This is David, her co-worker, one of her best friends. Her chest is heaving and she splays her fingers over her belly, where a tight knot is forming.

She’s suddenly aware of the coldness of the room and of her shivering skin.

“You alright?” he asks.

“It’s cold in here,” she replies, averting his gaze.

He tugs her down towards him and covers them with the duvet.

“I’m nervous too,” he whispers as his nose skims along her jaw line.

Her mouth seeks his and his now familiar taste unknots her stomach and warmth spreads all over her again, pooling between her legs.

She straddles him and she never knew anything could feel as good as his length sliding in her. When he’s fully sheathed in, she pauses, not trusting her quivering thighs. Her red nails dig in his chest as they exhale similar shuddering breaths. Their eyes meet and she feels herself tearing up. Swiftly, he captures her mouth with his and she bites his lower lip, resulting in a buck of his hips.

“Fuck.”

And then there’s no going back. They start thrusting erratically, chasing an elusive pleasure until they finally synchronize their movements. Their soft moans turn into louder, primal groans as they move faster. She leans over, her hands on each side of his head, her breasts tantalizingly close as he licks a bead of sweat between them. The new position allows her to find just the right friction and cadence she needs.

“Not yet, not yet, slow down,” David repeats.

“I can’t, fuck, just make it, aah, make it up to me later.”

And the idea of a second time is enough to make him come, his grasp on Billie’s hips tightening almost painfully, as his release shoots through him.

Not one to leave a woman in need, he barely takes time to recover and dispose of the rubber before reversing their position and replacing his member with his long fingers. Her body is still full of secrets to him but he does have a few tricks up his sleeve, a bit of exploration and Billie’s eyes widen in surprise as he crooks his fingers just on the right spot. Her legs clamp down, trapping his hand, whether it is to stop the intense sensation or to keep it going, she doesn’t know.

“Oh God, oh God,” she chants, one hand fisting the sheet and the other assisting David’s.

As her pleasure builds higher and higher, her back arches off the bed, her body increasingly strained and wired up. And then it starts, her toes curl, her calves quiver, the tremors travel up her thighs to her core and she shatters, the pleasurable spasms spreading through her whole lower abdomen.

When she comes back from her high, David is resting on his side, chin in his palm, smiling at her like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh shut your stupid face.”

“That’s no way to talk to the man who just rocked your world,” he replies, barely able to keep a straight face.

They burst out laughing, a lazy, exhausted, sort of laughter.

“We missed the countdown,” he comments, “it’s 2006 already.”

“I don’t really care,” she replies, “so are you going to turn up the heat or what? It’s freezing in here.”

He gathers her in his arms, holding her as close as humanly possibly, tucking her head under his chin. She runs her hand up and down his back and listens to his heart beating just for her.

"Happy new year, Bills.”

"It is."

* * *

It would be a lovely story weren’t it for the fact that nothing would ever be as easy as that first night. Their rare passionate encounters and occasional affectionate moments interspersed with misunderstandings and bad timing.

And it would be a lie to say she wouldn’t have it any other way. But she’d rather have it this way than not at all. Strangely, it seems to bring a sort of balance to her life.

It’s not perfect but it’s theirs.

* * *

She stayed in the washroom too long, long enough to worry her husband. He gives her that look that makes her think he knows. She reassures him and sits back down at the table with a genuine smile, intent on enjoying the rest of the evening.

David had replied.

“You me 2014”

She’d deleted the text but had tucked the message safely away in that part of her heart that belongs to him. From the confines of her chest, it radiates a warmth that makes her feel right and content. Whole.

“How about dessert?” she asks, “I’m in the mood for something decadent.”


End file.
